A Public Sphere for Poetry, Politics, and Nature
The kitchen is quiet and everyone has left.
On the table
a jagged row of coffee cups and beer cans
Stand like soldiers who have broken rank.
The birthday card I gave my daughter
With a picture of enchanted rabbits.
The scissors from her project of little paper animals
Sitting down to dine together.
The house is cluttered
With the accoutrements of life:
Clothes, books, dishes, scraps, soapboxes and kettles,
Matches, cats and me.
And you, my love.
Why do I feel alone without you
Whom I have never known?
Outside is the rain-drenched hissing of a Wednesday night.
The traffic grumbles insistent and low.
And love oh love oh love
With all the fervor of my convent days
I long for you whom I do not believe
This life will ever give me.
Copyright 2019 Elizabeth Romero